


Crime Scene

by clueless_psycho



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9800633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clueless_psycho/pseuds/clueless_psycho
Summary: It's a good day for a wedding





	

Title: Crime Scene  
Author: clueless_psycho  
Fandom: Viewfinder  
Rating: R and not quite NC-17  
Genre and/or Pairing: slash, Asami / Akihito  
Warnings: dead body  
Disclaimer: They belong to Yamane Ayano  
Word Count: 4095  
A/N: Brought to you by watching too much CSI: Miami

Originally posted in LJ on 20 June 2010

Beta by randrews25

 

It just happened that when the call came, Akihito was with Police Detective Sato in his office. Sato quickly got up and put his jacket on, grabbed his trenchcoat, saying, "Come with me, I need a photographer."

It was a beautiful autumn morning. The sky was exceptionally clear and the sun shone softly. The wind was cool and Akihito had thought earlier that it was a perfect day for a wedding.

Indeed they went to a wedding. It was held at the backyard of a mansion at the eastern outskirt of Tokyo. Except that in addition to the white ribbons, yellow police line had been strung out to seal the area. Policemen had replaced the catering staff and crime experts gathered around the bride, her white dress and veil a striking contrast against the green grass where she lay stiff and cooling. Twenty three years old Honda Megumi died instantly when a bullet hit her temple and made a nest in her brain, "Just before she said 'I do'," explained the forensic staff.

If that scene wasn't bad enough, it turned out that the groom had disappeared with the guests and the catering staff.

And Asami was there. 

He was sitting on one of the white chairs, eyes hidden behind a pair of Ray-ban, Kirishima standing near him, guarding, and surprisingly, Asami wasn't smoking.

Sato went up to see him. "Asami-san," he greeted. "It's truly an honor to see you here." There was enough sarcasm behind the polite words that would make Hell pale. It wasn't a secret anymore that the police force itched to put Asami behind bars for running illegal business, although up until now they still hadn't found any evidence at all.

Akihito curled up his nose, remembering that finding that evidence was what he was supposed to do.

Asami took his sunglasses off. He was clearly ignoring Akihito. "I assumed you'll need someone who can tell what happened, and it seems I'm the only one who's sensible and has the guts to stay."

Sato fished out his little notebook and pen. "So, what happened? And more importantly, where is the groom?”

Asami, Akihito regretfully decided, looked completely gorgeous. He probably put his best suit on for that day, his best shoes, his best tie, his best things. Akihito knew that Asami was always meticulous, but today, he was simply stunning. He could tell that he wasn’t the only one smitten by Asami’s looks. The females made terrible efforts not to grin or giggle or give Asami a side-long glance with hopes twinkling in their eyes.

However, Akihito didn’t have time to mull over such things. He had a job to do. He photographed the crime scene, the dead bride from every angle so the crime experts could make analysis later based on the pictures. He felt sorry for the bride, died just before starting a new life, but he also felt excited for getting involved in a crime scene activity which he had never done before. 

Akihito wondered what kind of relationship Asami had with either the bride or the groom, Yamada Takeshi. Their names didn’t ring a bell to Akihito although they seemed to be very rich to be able to have a posh, private wedding like this. But whatever it was, it must be important enough that Asami was willing to get up earlier that he normally did to be at such an occasion at ten thirty in the morning. Usually, he wouldn’t start his day before then.

“He didn’t know where the groom went,” Sato said, not specifically to Akihito, but more to his superior who came to inspect the crime scene personally as well as the bride.

Akihito wanted to tell Sato that Asami must have been lying through his teeth. He would bet that it was Asami who protected the groom, sending him somewhere, until the excitement was over. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want Sato, or anybody else, to know that he and Asami had some kind of a relationship.

“I’m sure that I’m not needed here anymore,” Asami said, he was walking behind Sato, he didn’t even look at Akihito. He put his Ray-ban back on. “I shall take my leave.”

“Just don’t go out of town,” the police captain said without actually looking at Asami’s face. “We may have to contact you if we need more information.”

“Please do not hesitate to contact Club Sion,” Asami said. “The operator will put you through to me, wherever I am.”

And Asami turned around and walked towards the parking area, Kirishima’s bulky body shielding him from everyone’s sights. Akihito stared at Kirishima’s back for a while; his stomach gave him an uneasy churn.

“And when you’re done, you can download the pictures into that laptop,” Sato talked to him, distracted him, causing him to jerk his head towards a policewoman who was using a laptop to input data, “and then you can leave.”

That startled Akihito that he frowned at Sato. “What? Why? I can help you analyze the pictures.”

Sato shook his head. “No need. We have experts for that. I asked you to take the pictures just because the usual photographer is at another crime scene on the other side of the city. Sorry to take up too much of your time.”

“No, no, no, it’s okay,” Akihito shook his head, “but…”

“Tohru-san, can you help Takaba-san here to download his pictures into your laptop?” Sato shouted at the female officer. “Make sure that none is left in his camera.”

With that, Sato went to join another group of police officers.

Akihito stood shocked, feeling betrayed and used, although he wasn’t sure why he had to feel that way. Just because Sato needed his help most of the time didn’t mean that he was part of the police force. And those photos were confidential.

“You look like a good photographer,” Tohru said as she came up to him, carrying her laptop. “I wish you took some pictures of Asami Ryuuichi too, though. He’s so… charismatic… I wish I wasn’t married.” Then she giggled like a teenage girl.

Akihito was tempted to ask her what that had gotten to do with being married or not, but he swallowed his tongue and just gave Tohru his camera.

Ten minutes later, after Tohru finished downloading the pictures into her laptop and he was packing up his camera into his backpack, Sato walked back up to him. “We have put barricades and search teams around the city but we haven’t been able to find the groom. Perhaps he has left the country, using a helicopter or a private jet. He has plenty of time to do that before someone has the sense to call the police.”

Akihito was willing to bet his precious camera that it was Asami, or Kirishima, who called the police.

Sato put a cigarette between his lips and lit it.

“I’m going,” Akihito hauled his backpack up on to his shoulders and turned around.

He was half way towards the house when he heard Sato say, “I have the feeling that Asami Ryuuichi knows where he is.”

Akihito suspected that Sato did it on purpose, that Sato knew what was going on between Asami and him and wanted him to take advantage of the situation, however, he ignored it and just walked away.

* * *

Akihito was hungry but he decided that he needed a bath first so he went straight home. Even while he walked towards the subway station, he learned that the news about the murder had spread fast like fire. TV channels were full with the breaking news. It seemed that the story of Honda Megumi and her tragic fate, dying on her wedding day in her wedding dress, her groom left her alone had captured the attention of the population in a pretty colossal way. It somehow gave Akihito a bad taste in his mouth, although this wasn’t the first time he dealt with a dead body. 

Unsurprisingly, there was no mention about Asami Ryuuichi at all, and Akihito could imagine that Detective Sato and his colleagues were busy with the investigation. He shook his head. He didn’t want to know about the investigation.

He took a long, very hot bath, and after feeling refreshed, he put on a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt. The temperature had dropped a few points, so he turned up the heater and went to cook some instant ramen. He didn’t switch the TV on, he didn’t think that he could take on the story of Honda Megumi once again, so he ate his ramen while playing computer games, with heavy metal songs blasting from the mp3 player.

He was washing the bowl when he heard the door bell. He went to get the door. Asami stood behind the wooden panel, still wearing his exquisite suit minus the tie.

“What’s up?” Akihito rubbed his eyes, but didn’t budge to let Asami in. 

“Let’s go out for lunch,” Asami answered. “I’m supposed to be partying at the moment, but because of how things turned out, there is no party and I’m hungry.”

“I already had lunch.” But his stomach was grumbling as if protesting for only being given a bowl of instant ramen.

“Like you have the habit to reject a free meal,” Asami snickered.

“You could’ve called me first.”

“Like it matters.”

“Then why didn’t you get someone else? Perhaps I really am not in the mood for lunch.”

“Ah, but you will be jealous if I ask someone else, won’t you?” Asami gave him his trade-mark smile.

Akihito gave up. Given that it wasn’t clear whether or not he would get paid for his works with the police today, he decided that it was best not to refuse the offer of a free lunch. And given how Asami usually ordered his food, he might be able to take some left-overs for dinner and breakfast.

He let Asami in, then he went about to get dressed. Asami sat on his computer chair and fiddled with the computer, perhaps browsing for porn, Akihito amusedly thought, but Asami was clearly ignoring him, which made the getting dressed process fast. Akihito put on a pair of old jeans which had seen better days, a light black sweater he thought he had had since junior high school, a pair of socks – miraculously freshly laundered -, and his favorite sneakers. He also got a jacket from the cabinet at the entryway, and when he was done, he found that he looked like a pauper next to the meticulously dressed Asami. 

But Asami didn’t say anything. When Akihito was ready, he got up and headed for the door. Akihito pocketed his cell phone and went after Asami.

Much to Akihito’s surprise, they didn’t go to some fancy, ultra-expensive restaurants in five star hotels. The driver took them to a quiet neighbourhood at the back roads of Shinjuku and he pulled the car over in front of a small, traditional restaurant which Akihito had never known before. Akihito amusedly thought that Asami wouldn’t want to be caught red-handed having lunch with him at a prestigious place. 

“This must be owned by someone who’s deeply indebted by yourself,” he mocked as he got out of the limousine.

Asami ignored his comment as he walked up to the restaurant.

It was obvious then that Asami’s visit took the restaurant staff by surprise. They quickly lined up, the cashier, the waitresses, even the cook, to bow at Asami, then one waitress escorted them to one of the empty rooms. It was good that the dining room consists of smaller, closed rooms, there was no open area so when that happened, no guests watched. It would be embarrassing if that happened, Akihito thought.

Their room was a nice one, and Akihito suspected that this was their best room. It could accommodate six person and it had a small water and stone garden with little bamboo plants. Another waitress brought them ocha, sake and sweets, and after she left, an old woman entered their room and bowed at Asami. “Asami-sama,” she greeted. “It’s such an honor. You should’ve called earlier so we can prepare a better welcome you.”

“This is fine,” Asami said. “It’s unplanned. I was supposed to be at Megumi’s wedding.”

“Poor child, may God bless her,” the old woman said. 

“This is Takaba Akihito, by the way. Akihito-kun, this is Matsumoto-san, she owns this restaurant.”

“Yorosiku, Matsumoto-san,” Akihito bowed at her. 

“Enjoy your lunch, then,” Matsumoto nodded. “I’ll be in the kitchen to make sure the cook does it right for you. We have the best of monk fish and freshwater eel today.”

“I can’t wait,” Asami smiled softly at her.

Akihito waited until Matsumoto left the room and closed the shoji properly before saying, “So both you and Matsumoto-san know Honda Megumi.”

Asami only shrugged. “Matsumoto saved Honda’s life.”

“She doesn’t seem to be utterly sad about Honda's deaths,” Akihito mentioned.

“Life goes on,” Asami said. Which was sensible, considering that Honda’s body was in the morgue and being autopsied. Nothing could be done, no funeral preparation could start, until the process finished.

“What about Honda’s parents? Were they at the wedding? If not, where are they?”

“Matsumoto saved her from them.”

The conversation was cut short by the return of the waitresses bringing in two sets of ten course meal which include steamed monk fish and grilled freshwater and Akihito was instantly glad that he hadn’t eaten much for the day. The conversation was completely forgotten too as soon as he picked up the ivory chopsticks and exclaimed, “Itadakimasu!”

The food was truly superb and Akihito forgave Asami for taking him to this small restaurant instead of a super-fancy, ultra-expensive one. He even wondered whether Asami would let him have some take-outs for dinner and breakfast, because he knew he could live the rest of his life eating them. 

He didn't have to ask Asami. Matsumoto had prepared some for him to take away. "Young man like you should eat more. You're way too thin," Matsumoto said.

Akihito thanked her and she smiled softly at him.

As they got back into the car, Akihito wondered if Detective Sato had found out about Matsumoto. However, again he shook the thought away; he didn't want to think about Detective Sato and the police force after being underestimated by Sato earlier.

"I'll take you back to your apartment," Asami started but his cell phone rang and he chose to answer it rather than continuing his sentence. "Asami.... yes, put him through... Good afternoon, Detective Sato. No, I didn't know that... Well, it's a legal business, it's open to anyone at legal age as long as they pay... I don't see why I have to meet you there… you have spoken to Reiko-san, haven't you? She's very capable, you can trust her... If you insist..." He ended the conversation and pocketed his cell phone. He pressed the button to lower the glass partition and said to Kirishima and the driver at the front seat, "Go to 24 Carats." He didn't even ask Akihito whether he wanted to join or not.

Akihito laughed. "So you own 24 Carats too." It was a high-class strip club, like really, really high class that unless one had a ten digit saving in his bank account, he couldn't dream of making any reservation, and one had to make reservation to be there and couldn't just walk in and get a table.

Naturally, Akihito had never dreamed of entering the club, but then he had no interest anyway.

His excitement at the anticipation of finally getting a look at the inside of 24 Carats died when he remembered that Detective Sato was there and neither of them wanted to be seen together by the detective.

Or maybe it was only his fear, because Asami didn't say anything. As soon as the car stopped in front of the club, Asami got out, followed by Kirishima. Akihito decided to stay in the car and the driver parked the car in a short distance from the club.

Akihito noticed that other than Sato's unmarked, police issued, standard sedan, there was no other police car in the area. He watched for a while, and when he was sure that nobody’s looking, he got out of the car. He really preferred fresh air outside than sitting inside the car, although the limousine interior was more like a presidential suite living room than a car. The driver’s quietness got into his nerve too. He was playing Go on his cell phone.

Akihito walked half the block when he met an alley and saw a girl smoking there, leaning on the dirty wall, wrapped tightly in padded jacket, jeans and boots. Even with her hair messy and without make-up on, she was very beautiful. However, she looked sick, her fingers were trembling and she had tear marks on her face. Akihito stopped. “You okay?” he asked.

She shrugged. Akihito decided to approach her. She offered a cigarette. Akihito refused politely. 

“I told her not to do that, you know,” she suddenly blurted. “I told her that she couldn‘t marry him and think that she could get away with it. She just didn’t listen.”

“Who married who?” Akihito asked, not actually wanting to dig, but she seemed to want to talk.

“Megumi-chan.”

Now that was interesting.

“And by him you must mean: Yamada?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah. It’s all over the news,” the girl said.

“Yes, I know that.”

“I mean: it’s… silly. It’s a crime. And now she’s dead and Yamada disappeared.”

“Wait, wait, why don’t you tell me from the start? I didn’t quite get this. What happened?”

“Yamada held his bachelor party last night in the club. Megumi hosted it.”

Something didn’t click here, but Akihito only nodded. He also assumed that the girl worked in the club. “Okay.”

“Megumi even gave Yamada a lap dance, and Yamada couldn’t take his eyes off her.”

That was understandable. Megumi was indeed very pretty.

“And then suddenly Yamada asked if Megumi wanted to marry him. And Megumi said yes.” She paused, sniffed. “Yamada was drunk. He wasn’t in his right mind. Megumi-chan shouldn’t take advantage of that.”

Akihito tried so hard to register the story into his brain. So Yamada had a bachelor party in a high-class strip club and proposed to Megumi. Wasn’t one supposed to propose first and plan a wedding before having a bachelor party?

“I didn’t get it.”

“Yamada was supposed to marry someone else!” the girl blurted again, giving Akihito a look as if Akihito was the imbecile of the year. “That’s why it was silly and a crime and now the police are investigating us, Reiko-san won’t tell the truth that Megumi wasn’t the supposed bride and the big boss came and we don’t know who he’s protecting: Megumi, Yamada or the unfortunate bride-to-be.”

That was quite a blow, and Akihito didn’t know which one hit harder, the true story of Honda Megumi or the fact that this girl knew that Asami was the big boss of the strip club. 

After he could get a grab of his brain again, he nodded. “I see.”

“I have to go,” she took one last drag of her now very short cigarette, dropped it to the ground and crushed it with the tip of her boots. Then she jogged back towards the club.

Akihito was too stunned to even think what to do next. Maybe he would stand stiffly for the next few hours, if his cell phone hadn’t rung. It was Asami. “Where are you?” Asami asked.

“At the alley, half the block from the club.”

“Stay there, I’ll pick you up.”

Akihito stayed in the shadow and waited until he was completely blocked by the car before jogging towards it and getting inside without being seen by anybody.

“Going well?” he asked as he slammed his body on the leather upholstered super comfortable seat.

Asami only hn-ed.

“So who are you protecting?”

Asami gave him a side-long glance.

Akihito laughed. He shimmied closer to Asami and leaned to whisper in his ear, “No, I don’t want to know. And I won’t do anything to make you speak. I’m sure you would’ve expected it.” Then he slid away again, pressing his back to the door, smiling mockingly at Asami.

Asami only gave him his trade-mark half-smile.

“Yamada killed his wife to be so he could marry Megumi,” Asami said. “It was a secretly prepared marriage, a runaway marriage, because the bride’s parents wouldn’t give their blessings but they were in love.”

Akihito laughed again. “And why are you suddenly telling me this?”

“Yamada’s wife to be was the daughter of a close friend of mine,” Asami continued.

Akihito stopped laughing. He tilted his head, then rolled his eyes. “Oh, let me guess. The father found out and really, you don’t mess up with something like that. And that was why you were in the wedding. You were invited by the bride. I see. It has to be someone very important to make you attend a wedding.”

“I didn’t know Megumi had replaced the bride.”

“But you know that Megumi worked in your very own strip club.”

“Akihito, one rule of a very successful businessman is he has to know his assets.”

Akihito snickered. “Yeah, assets. That’s what they are to you.”

Asami shrugged. 

“So the bride’s father killed Megumi,” Akihito said.

Asami didn’t say anything.

“And may I know who’s the father?” Akihito mocked.

The car pulled up and Akihito looked out of the window to find his apartment building outside. He felt his stomach flip uneasily. Asami took him home. Asami didn’t want to do anything else with him. He should be happy.

“I have important meetings,” Asami said as if he could read Akihito’s mind.

Akihito nodded. “I’m sure it involves smuggling Yamada out of the country,” he said as he reached for the take-out boxes from Matsumoto’s restaurant. “Or you know. Whatever.”

He stood on the pavement, watching the car drive away, suddenly losing his appetite to eat another steamed monk fish or grilled eel.

* * *

Akihito supposed that he could go to Sato and tell him everything Asami told him. But there wasn’t enough information to put one and one together to get two. Yamada’s existence was still unknown. And he felt more awkward to have to spend the night alone in his apartment.

He still had the monkfish and eel for dinner. They still tasted superb even after being heated up in the microwave. He continued playing computer games and ignoring the TV. At ten in the evening, he gave up, took a bath, put on some clothes and got out.

Asami was still in Club Sion, and the receptionist let him in through the back door because one had to wear formal clothes to enter through the front door. Asami was also still wearing the clothes he wore to the wedding, although inside his office, he had taken his tie and jacket off. There were several piles of folders on his desk and he was checking the content of one.

“I told you I’m busy, it’s the end of tax year,” Asami said without looking up.

“Oh yeah, and that’s how much tax you aren’t planning to pay this year?” Akihito jerked his head towards the piles.

“I’m an obedient citizen, I don’t rob my own country,” Asami said flatly. “Ask Sato. He had gone through the strip club’s ledger this day.”

“Well, speaking about Sato, maybe he’s more interested in knowing Yamada’s whereabouts.” Akihito lifted one pile and placed it on the floor.

Asami closed the folder. “And what are you interested in? What made you come back?”

Akihito moved another pile of folders on the floor and now there was some space on the desk. He hauled himself up to sit on the desk. “I want to know where Yamada is. You told me a story. But you didn’t finish it. You should finish it.”

Asami leaned back and entwined the fingers of his hands under his chin, his eyes boring into Akihito, hard and cold like diamonds. “I have never had any of the girls giving me a lap dance either,” he said. 

Akihito gave him his nastiest scowl, then he said, “Asami, you’re so predictable. Just cut the crap, and tell me where Yamada is.” And he leaned forward, grabbed Asami by the collar of his designer’s shirt and pulled him forward so he could kiss the man viciously.

* * *

~end


End file.
